Secret shore

I want a life that is a secret shore,
that no one else but my Love would know.
I would weep and heal there.
I would love and die there.
I would see the most beautiful sunset and take no picture to show someone or sell somewhere.
I would see the magnificence of water and the sun,
Of the moon and the mount
Of the wolves and the hunt
Of the colours of her crown.
I would see where things begin and end, but tell no one.
Because, to speak of that 
would be to crack the perfect cup. 

1922, Internet Archive Book Images. Haynes, Jack Ellis. Harold B. Lee Library via Brigham Young University

I have a mother

I have a mother who moves me mountains
who turns my storms
who lulls my thunder.

I have a mother who makes love to the sea
who closes my eyes if I sink too deep.

I have a mother who dissolves fear
into scattering, warm liquid milk.

I have a mother who holds the racing wave 
frozen in air, until I go my way.

I have a mother who hurtles the eye of the storm pointed right at me, across the bay,
just to have it pass over my head.

I have a mother, whose path I won’t cross
when I see the third storm brewing in the sky-face.

1890, The silence has settled: Nikolay Nikanorovich Dubovskoy.
Zimmerli Art Museum at Rutgers University